


The Music of the Night

by pluhsauce



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Three Houses - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I don't like character death so everyone survived the war (except Rhea), Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluhsauce/pseuds/pluhsauce
Summary: As the lead songstress of the opera, Dorothea is allowed many privileges. One of many being the seat she reserves for the dark haired swordsman whose sharp gaze causes her skin tingle every time she walks on stage. Although Felix has spent his life predicting opponents' moves on the battlefield, he soon realizes that this has never applied to Dorothea, even in their academy days.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first FE fic so please be kind! Reading Felix and Dorothea's romance ending card hit me so hard with inspiration I just had to get back into the fanfiction game. :)

Wiping at the sweat dripping down his dirt-smudged forehead, Felix trudged into Enbarr with the reluctance of a convict walking to the gallows. He had spent two grueling months on a mission in the cold northern outskirts of Faerghus, and the adjustment to the heat on top of the long journey had left him even more irritated than usual. The city had recently tightened restrictions on civilians owning horses within city limits, and for the first time in a while, he regretted renouncing his noble title when it meant he had to rely on renting from stables. 

The nearest stable was several city blocks from the inn he had been suggested, and his usual choice outfit of a knit sweater and fur-lined cloak made his reddened cheeks stick out even more in the summer heat. At the very least, he was glad to be rid of the party he had traveled with the past months—most of them could put Sylvain to shame with their brazen talk of brothels and harem fantasies. 

He groaned internally, realizing that he would be getting more of the same when he met up with his loud friend later that night. Perhaps if he made his case well enough, Sylvain would let him get a good night’s rest before he was dragged to every nightlife attraction in Enbarr.

Sulking over this anticipated future, he soon reached the inn, a rather dingy looking building that contrasted severely with the large payout from his mission sitting at the bottom of his bag. Confused at the relatively quiet streets compared to the rest of the bustling city, he soon realized this was due to the rather.…salacious nature of some of the buildings on the block.

“Next time I am picking my own Inn,” He grumbled to himself, walking as far left on the street as possible to distance himself from the brothel two doors down. The interior of the inn was pleasant enough—the front served as a bar, half-full with a mix of locals and tourists. Although he would have preferred nicer accommodations, he remembered Sylvain mentioning in his letter that this was one of the few places that rented out rooms long-term for those not wishing to purchase a home in town. As Felix was not certain how long he would remain in Enbarr, he had to admit this was the best fit for his most important need.

Sylvain had promised his presence in the inn’s bar at sundown, so Felix estimated he had a few hours to wash up and lie down. And after introducing himself to the elderly innkeeper and placing a deposit down for the room, he did just that, stripping himself of his heavy clothes the second he locked the door of his room. 

Stepping into the warm bath was so euphoric that he could not stop the satisfied groan escaping his lips.

_How embarrassing._ He flushed, praying the walls were thick enough to not stir the curiosity of his neighbors. It had been weeks since he had been able to wash properly, and many weeks longer since he had the time to do so peacefully.

Absent-mindedly, he traced the scar blossoming on his forearm, the result of a blow he had foolishly taken for one of the other members of his mercenary team. The other men had laughed at him later, teasing him for the noble blood that ran in his veins. He sighed, missing the days where he would fight alongside comrades who would die for him, and for them he would do the same. He had taken those days for granted—scolded his classmates for interrupting his training or for trying to get close to him.

Now, he would give anything to go back and redo those days. After pushing his classmates away for so long, it shouldn’t be surprising that the only one that kept in touch with him was Sylvain. While his old classmates were ruling nations, founding organizations, and negotiating peace, he spent his days doing missions for pay that he didn’t need. 

Glancing at the other scars he had accumulated in the past years, he regretted not accepting the company of a mage on any of his missions. Gone were the days where he could accept healing magic minutes after receiving a blow.

Recalling the gentle warmth of healing magic, he soon drifted off, the arms draped over the sides of the tub keeping him above the water.

Hours later, he awoke with a start, the water now cold and causing his skin to wrinkle. He was reluctantly grateful for the cold, as his dream had been quite a bit more heated than he would have liked.

_Must be my body’s reaction to being alone after all this time._ He decided, not exactly convincing himself. What had started as a dream of the healing touch of an old classmate had led to dreams of further touching, which——

_—Improper._ He thought to himself, wiping his mind of distracting smiles, green eyes, and exposed skin. As Sylvain would certainly be arriving soon, he dutifully laid out a far lighter outfit than before—a pair of dark pants and a white blouse reminiscent of his academy days. Although he was not the type to break the routine of his usual garb, the temperature convinced him otherwise.

There was a small mirror in the room, and he used it to messily pull up his hair, frowning at the persistent dark circles under his eyes. He supposed he should wear them pride, at they bolstered his reputation of ignoring his own needs over the pursuit of strength.

_It’s been ages since I had a good spar._ He frowned, exiting his room and walking down the stairs to the bar. He sat down rather awkwardly at a table in the corner, unused to the bustle of a tavern. Truthfully he did not drink often, as he found embarrassment in his low tolerance. He cursed the persistent stereotype of tough men being able to hold their drink.

Scanning his eyes across the growing crowd, he was a bit surprised to see Sylvain was already there, sitting at the bartop and offering flirty smiles to the older woman working the counter. He raised an eyebrow at his friend’s antics, Sylvain happening to glance over at that very second. He grinned, saying something further to the woman with a wink and soon walking over brandishing two large mugs of an amber liquid.

“I’m surprised you actually showed up!” he laughed, plopping down one of the mugs in front of Felix and unceremoniously plopping himself down on the chair across from him. Felix frowned, silently staring at his friend chugging a third of the glass in one go.

“I love this place,” Sylvain grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “No cute girls, of course, but the bartender gives me free drinks as long as I give her a little sweet talk in return.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Yes, free drinks in exchange for your dignity.”

Sylvain cracked a grin. “Dignity? My friend, it seems that your long mission has caused you to remember me far more fondly than I deserve.”

When Felix said nothing in return, Sylvain continued.

“So….what was this one all about again?”

“A team rescue mission for some careless noble’s son. Turns out he had never been kidnapped, he had run away from home to join enemy forces on his own accord.”

Sylvain faked a yawn. “Sounds boring. You don’t really seem like the team type. Why did you take it?”

“It was the only mission available at the time.”

“I mean, you could have just hung out with some of us! You don’t need to constantly be on missions!” Sylvain joked, before realizing the mistake he had made. Felix frowned.

“Unlike you, our classmates do not seem to go out of their way to contact me,” he said quietly. Of course this didn’t bother him. Why would this bother him? He was strong, respected, known for his skill….

“….Felix, my man. You need to up your social game. What happens when you’re an old man who can’t lift a sword anymore?”

“I would rather die than be unable to fight.”

“Says the man who has never done anything but fight,” Sylvain pointed out. “Now I’m going to give you 10 seconds. Your drink needs to be gone before I am done counting.”

Felix blinked, flustered at the command. “What? But that’s not—”

“One….”

Felix grabbed the mug with both hands, shooting an icy glare his friend’s way before tipping back his head and making an attempt to choke down as much as the bitter liquid as he could.

“Two…Three…Four…Five…Six….Wow! Only six seconds! Felix! There’s hope for you yet!”

Doing his best impression of a man not feeling sick to his stomach, Felix sighed. “Of course, that was nothing.”

“Okay—you pay for the next round then!”

“I thought you said you got free drinks?” Felix stammered out.

“Yeah, well you don’t! Go get us some real stronger stuff this time,” Sylvain laughed, watching him walk up and pretend that he even knows the name of any strong liquor.

* * *

After hours catching up, Felix was satisfied that Sylvain had been doing well for himself in the city. He was on an extended vacation from his duties at his inherited Gautier territory, the reason for which Sylvain was vague.

_Intentionally vague._ Felix thought, reminding himself to press further after Sylvain downed a few more drinks.

Felix not being the one to talk about himself at length, Sylvain was glad to take the reigns of the conversation, blabbering about his romantic exploits and dramatically explaining how he needed to give up his philandering ways to land a particular woman he had his eyes on. Felix groaned at this, feeling sorry for this mystery woman.

Sylvain had drunk twice as much as Felix, and he either was not aware or pretended not to be. Felix’s head was buzzing, though he could not tell if it was from the alcohol or the drastic increase of casual conversation he normally experienced.

“Hey Felix~” Sylvain smirked, obviously about to suggest something that Felix would protest. “I have a treat for us tonight.”

“I am not going to a brothel,” Felix frowned. Sylvain laughed.

“Nooooo…seducing a woman is one thing, brothels are the opposite. You’d find me dead before you find me in a brothel.”

“Okay,” Felix responded, not caring for this discussion in the slightest. “Where are you taking us?”

Sylvain sighed, flushed with alcohol and holding his cheeks like a lovestruck schoolgirl. “We’re going to go to the opera.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “The opera? At this hour?”

“Trust me, my man,” Sylvain said, standing up suddenly. “You’ll understand, I’m sure of it.”

And with that, they were off down the now-crowded streets, Sylvain acting as though he wasn’t stumbling and Felix acting as though he didn’t notice.

* * *

  
Minutes before the show began, Dorothea was a flustered mess. First she could not find her favorite lipstick, and then she noticed a rip in one of her costumes that needed to be repaired right away. She grumpily sat in underwear, staring at the stagehand sewing it back up as if it would make them go faster. 

Starting her day, she was already in a terrible mood. Sylvain had stopped by her home early in the morning, pounding on her door and waking her up from much-needed sleep just to inform her that he would be attending the show tonight. She had half a mind to let her understudy go on instead, though admittedly her pride would not allow that. Sylvain had proposed five times already, claiming he was not leaving Enbarr until she accepted. She rolled her eyes at the thought, assuming tonight would be the sixth.

She did not dislike Sylvain—he was a very charming and attractive man after all—but the thought of marrying a noble left a bitter taste in her mouth. For so many years she had clashed with her classmates at Garegg Mach over her commoner status, and becoming a noble now meant going back on everything she had fought for back then. She wanted to work for her reputation, not marry into it.

_Besides…_ she thought dejectedly. _What would become of me with no opera to perform in? It’s not like mages are in high demand these days._

With the nation at relative peace, her weapon-wielding classmates had settled into mercenary or instructing positions. Work for mages without a team were few and far between. As for being a professor, Dorothea could not think of a position she would be less suited for.

She wrinkled her nose, remembering how much she had hated her professors for assigning loads of unnecessary reading and homework. _Why would anyone want to make a profession out of torturing others? I’d rather contribute to things that move people._

“Miss Dorothea, your costume has been fixed,” the worker smiled, motioning her over and helping her into her structured gown. Tonight’s show was one that had made quite the scandalous splash in Enbarr—the lead begins the show as a modest, shy girl and by the third act, has grown into a confident seductress.

With a soft smile, Dorothea remembered the faces of the first friends she had invited to the show, front row seats reserved for Edelgard and Hubert on a rare break from diplomatic visits. Seeing Hubert blush profusely and attempt to cover Edelgard’s eyes when she walked on stage in a thin slip was a sight that delighted her to no end.

Though truthfully, she was losing passion for this show in particular. Because of its success, it had run for far longer than originally planned. If anything, she hated being stuck in a prolonged routine, and she was desperate for excitement.

_I’ll have a talk with the director later._ She thought, inspired. _There’s a few different shows I have in mind for this upcoming season._

“Dorothea! You’re on stage in two minutes!” a voice called out, and she reluctantly slumped out of her chair, taking one last glance in the mirror to ruffle her hair and push her breasts closer together at the top of her bodice. 

“Time to leave them breathless,” she said, smiling a little harder than she felt and walking to her cue.

* * *

  
As the orchestra had been warming up, Felix’s anxiety was rising significantly. Although opera was one of his largest interests outside of fighting, it wasn’t exactly one that he wanted advertised to the world. While Sylvain gestured wildly, recounting some inane story from their Garegg Mach days, Felix silently panicked, wondering who had told Sylvain of his secret interest. Had someone noticed him pacing outside of choir practices? Leaning in a little too intently during solos at church services?

And then, his mind landed on the likely culprit: Dorothea.

Although he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why, he remembered their conversations back at the monastery quite fondly. Something about her persistent, open personality brought on a comforting feeling whenever she interrupted his training or cornered him in a stairwell. After he learned that she shared his passion for music, it was only natural for him to disclose his interest. 

Although that moment was most likely the reason for his current situation, he would never regret that decision. After all, it was that decision that to his open invitation to her practice sessions, listening to her carefully hit the same note over and over as he would hit a training dummy with his sword. If only they had more time before the war started, perhaps he would have invited her to watch him, or perhaps even offer to give her instruction.

Something about that thought made him feel very uncomfortable dwelling on it while sitting in a crowd. _Must be an effect of the alcohol._ He surmised. Anyways, although he would have loved to scold her for sharing what he had revealed in private, that would also require him running into her again. A situation which he admittedly knew was unlikely to happen on its own.

“SHHHH!” Sylvain exclaimed loudly, despite Felix being silent since they arrived. “It’s starting!!”

The lighting dimmed and the orchestra began to fill the room with a gliding melody. So caught up in his thoughts, Felix hadn’t even thought to pick up a program. No matter, as he was sure he would enjoy the show regardless. He would just have to think of something to say to Sylvain afterwords should he press him for a review. 

However, all musings of negative adjectives halted the second a lofty soprano note floated from the side stage. The lithe, cloaked figure of a young woman followed, her face hidden as the confident vibrato washed over Felix’s skin, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. 

The song drifted by like a pleasant dream, the ebbs and flows of the verses echoing off the walls like soothing waves. As the last phrase finished with a triumphant crescendo, the woman leaned into a dramatic twirl, sweeping her cape off in the process. She landed smiling with her hands raised out, and Felix was struck with a warmness in his stomach and chill in his veins. 

There she was, as if pulled out of his daydream and presented to him as a taunt of the life he had left behind. Although she was physically the same, there was a glow of maturity alongside the ever-present testing glint to her eyes. 

Those same eyes nimbly scanned over the crowd, as if there was someone specific she was looking for. Suddenly Felix felt very self conscious, half of him desperate to see her reaction to his presence, and the other half desperate to never find out. 

It couldn’t have been longer than a second, but its impact was unmistakable. Felix felt pinned to his seat by her widened green eyes, a difference so slight, you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it.(And he most certainly was looking for it)

There was no mistake, she had seen him. 

While every ounce of alcohol seemed to evaporate from him at once, the stifling warmth remained. He felt a bead of sweat travel down his neck.

“Did you see that?” Sylvain whispered. “She was totally checking me out!”

* * *

_Shitshitshitshitfuckfuckfuck_ Dorothea panicked, nearly sprinting off stage the second her cue ended. Why didn’t Sylvain tell her he was bringing someone? Why did it have to be him? Why was this happening on the night she had rushed through her phrasing and not spent the proper time doing her makeup and didn’t drink enough water beforehand and—

—she took a deep sigh, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Why should it matter if he brought him? She had friends visit by surprise countless of times….just….this felt very different for some reason.

The last time she had heard of Felix, Sylvain had been making fun of him for spending his time on endless mercenary missions.

The last time she had seen Felix, she had been silently assisting on the battlefield, tending to wounds and sending out distant magic attacks to assist the front line that Felix never strayed from.

The last time she had spoken to Felix, he had patiently waited outside the door for group singing practice to be over before walking in to observe the extra hour Dorothea stayed to work on her own. Her classmates would tease her for this, assuming naughty things whereas in reality, their routine was much different. He would sit silently as she worked, sometimes bringing weapons to clean and sometimes just leaning back and closing his eyes. Afterwords, he would over brief grunts of praise or get her flustered by pointing out improvements he noticed.

And her favorite times were the ones where he would drift to sleep while she sang, no doubt exhausted by spending his waking hours training and asking to be dispatched on missions. She would always let him sleep, and then right before she had to leave, would flick his nose and joke that her singing must really be a bore if it had that effect.

Dwelling on the mental image of Felix startling awake with cheeks flushed in embarrassment filled her with an emotion she hadn’t felt in a long time. She knew all too well that she was certainly setting herself up for disappointment—after all, enough years have passed where she can’t say she even knew the Felix sitting in front of her today.

An insecurity reared its head. _What if he doesn’t remember me?_

And as soon as the thought appeared, she swatted it away. _If he doesn’t, I’ll give him something to remember._ She huffed, making a note to dip her necklines a little lower and raise hems a lot higher in the final scenes.

Taking one more self-indulgent sigh before pushing it all from her mind, she scowled. _Sylvain is going to think I’m doing it for him. That fucker._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind feedback on the previous chapter! Onto the next we gooo~

It had been so long since Dorothea had fun with this show.

She had recognized this fact before, but did not realize the extent of her feelings until she now had a reason to slip in some excitement. Though the air backstage was busy and warm, she found herself shivering at the memory of staring across the crowd and meeting the sharp stare of a person she truly thought would forever remain in her memories.

Running a manicured hand through her hair in efforts to fluff the volume, she couldn’t help herself from dwelling on the heat she felt in that moment. She was sure it wasn’t just her…she could have sworn she saw something spark in him. Had she imagined it? In all the scenes that followed, his gaze was polite, cursory even. 

She wanted to see that first look again.

It was rather silly, actually. To think she spent so much time lamenting that men in her life only ever looked at her with hungry stares, and here she was trying to manifest that very thing. She almost wanted to write to Ingrid about it later, but then she remembered the subject behind the situation and decided against it. After all, besides what she could see sitting in front of her, this Felix was a complete mystery. Perhaps he had chosen a new life path? Purchased a house in the countryside? Living with a wife and two children? 

As soon as the thought popped into her mind, her expression soured. She felt rather silly feeling jealous over this, much less over a daydream she invented.

 _How ridiculous._ She thought to herself. _Here I am staking claim on a man I don’t even know._

Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself out of these thoughts to focus on her appearance in the mirror. She was in the slip for her final scene, a semi-sheer burgundy dress that if you squinted, you could see the lines of her body underneath. It really wasn’t all that revealing in her opinion, but she supposed the typical formality of the stage made it novel in contrast. For now, it was covered by a robe to make the reveal even more dramatic.

She walked backstage to her cue, and frowned, remembering the other reason she wasn’t a fan of this show. Her costar, a boastful pretty boy that reminded her too much of Lorenz, gave her a saucy wink, to which she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s make tonight a good one,” he whispered to her as they waited for the scene to change. “Feel free to add a little tongue.”

“You wish,” she teased back, though she’d much rather hit him with a fire spell to the face. On second thought…

The scene change began, and he rushed to his place on the canopy bed on stage, Dorothea just behind the curtain so she could walk on from the other side. He started his section of the song, his character lamenting he never had the chance to see her character one last time. The side of the bed faced the front of the stage, supposedly depicting royal bedchambers.

It was a shame he had such an awful personality, given his looks and vocal talent. From far away, his dark hair and pale skin even bore a similarity to a certain man in the audience. Dorothea felt an idea bubble up to her consciousness, the type of idea you would never want anyone to know. She felt a mix of naughtiness and guilt swirl together in the bottom of her stomach.

As she hit her cue and entered on a dramatic high note, with each step towards the bed, she imagined his face sharper, sterner, more like the person who would likely have a heart attack if he knew what she was imagining.

The next verse involved her circling around the bed, subtly fiddling with the tie keeping the front of the robe together before taking her place on the side facing the audience. She took a deep breath, hitting the highest note of the show as her robe hit the floor. Her costar pulled her onto the bed, and she imagined his soft hands were calloused, more direct. Kneeling over his lying form, she swooped down for a long kiss, running her hands through his hair and pretending that instead of expensive perfume, she smelled the sweat and dirt of the academy training ground.

She had done such a through job pretending that when the lights dimmed and she pulled away, she almost was surprised to see her costar there. With only a minute before the curtain rose for bows, they shot up from the bed to allow the crew to push it offstage.

“Damn, I should have asked you weeks ago if I knew you’d take my suggestion so well!” he laughed, helping her back into her robe. “I bet that looked amazing in the audience.”

“Just doing my job,” she smiled, mentally praying to the goddess that he didn't have this expectation for every show to follow. As the curtain rose and the minor cast members took to the stage for their bows, she fought over if she would look at them or not. On one hand, she wanted to know if the scene had an effect, on the other hand, it would be a heavy blow if it hadn’t.

Deciding she had already done her share of testing fate today, Dorothea made her decision.

Taking her bow, she beamed to the audience, training her gaze unfalteringly to the back exit. It took everything in her power not to look to the right, not to look over for just a second. 

_There will be another time._ She reasoned to herself as the cast bowed all together. And then..… _oh shit. Wait. What if there wasn’t another time??_

Her head abruptly turned to the direction it wanted to, but it was too late, as the curtain had already fallen too far. As she walked to her dressing room to change out of her costume, she couldn’t help but curse her luck. _Why didn’t I think of that sooner? Of course Sylvain always waits after, but there’s no way of knowing that Felix will._

Once in her dressing room, she stared down her wardrobe with displaced irritation, skipping over her usual red and burgundy dress to pull out a simpler white one instead. The silhouette was similar, a form fitting bodice that flared out into loose skirts and sleeves. She felt if she was going to be stood up for a greeting that was not guaranteed to happen, she may as well do so dressed as an aloof nymph.

She started wiping off some of the sparkly powder on her collarbone, all of a sudden feeling very self-conscious of it.

* * *

“Wasn’t that amazing???” Sylvain grinned, mimicking wiping tears from his eyes. He got up from his seat, and Felix followed, not sure what his plan was after all this. He was feeling almost light-headed for the amount of time he had sat there with reddened cheeks—he was very grateful that Dorothea didn’t seem to notice. He’d probably perish on the spot if she made a comment about it in front of Sylvain.

“You know~ Dorothea once told me that it was tradition in this area for soldiers to watch women sing before going into battle. Something about it bolstering their spirits or something,” the redhead mused, looking over the other attendees as they exited the theater. 

At the lobby he paused, putting his hand on Felix’s shoulder enthusiastically. “Do you agree? Don’t you feel yourself riled up??”

Felix scoffed at this. 

“I do not like whatever you are implying.”

Sylvain laughed at this, slapping Felix on the back. “You’re going to have to give up that prude act someday, Felix!”

Felix frowned, using this time to subtly look over the lobby to see if any of the performers were coming out. They were, but he did not see Dorothea among them. There were, however, a good number of people holding flowers, most likely from a flower vendor that had set up shop inside the lobby.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Sylvain sighed. “It’s kind of far away..can you buy a flower for me to give to Dorothea later?”

Felix gaped at this audacity. “Why would I—”

“Remember, most of your drinks were free tonight!” Sylvain reminded as he briskly walked away. Felix glowered, reaching into his pocket and moving to the vendor to get in line. Although he had always admired gardens and the skill it took to grow flowers, he did not have the faintest clue what flower would suit this situation the best. _I’ll be sure to select the plainest one to spite Sylvain, that asshole._

And although this sounded like a very sound plan, by the time Felix was at the front of the line, the sheer number of choices was overwhelming. As his hand hovered over the stems of a small bouquet of red roses, he felt a soft hand brush against his own.

“I like these. A classic, simple choice,” a voice said sweetly. His head turned around in surprise, and the vendor took the moment to exchange the coins in his open palm with bouquet of the same kind.

“Dorothea..” He trailed off, wide eyes taking in the frame he had been a stage away from earlier, and not the inches they were now. Realizing their proximity snapped him back to reality, and he pulled them out of the line to a an empty spot nearby. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. What if I thought you were an assassin and tried to kill you?”

“You must be up to some pretty exciting things nowadays to have assassins trailing you to buy flowers,” Dorothea smiled, using the time to take in all the little differences she couldn’t see from on stage. She saw him take in the change of outfit and felt the urge to learn forward a little suggestively, but decided it would be too obvious. “Can I ask who these are for?”

“You, obviously,” Felix scoffed. “Who else would they be for?”

Upon seeing Dorothea’s cheeks flush almost immediately, Felix felt a lot less confident in what he thought was a common social courtesy. “Uhh…Are..Well, all these other people have flowers. Do they not give them to the performers after the show?”

Dorothea, to her credit, seemed to be able to answer a tad more clearly than himself). “No…um..people only really get them for their lovers it seems.”

His eyes darted around the lobby to confirm, and yes, now that he really looked, it did seem that was the case. To him, it seemed rather surprising that people could witness the performance Dorothea gave and then give flowers to anyone but her, but…

“Huh,” Felix responded awkwardly, the palm holding the flowers feeling increasingly sweaty during this conversation. “Um. Well, Sylvain told me to—”

“Oh dear, I forgot about Sylvain,” she frowned, nose scrunched, looking very much like she wanted to forget about Sylvain altogether. “Did he leave yet?”

“No, he’s in the bathroom.”

This seemed to relax her a great deal, which was confusing to him, but he supposed Sylvain had done something stupid to warrant that reaction. She paused and gave him a look.

“What did you think of your first trip to our opera~?” she smiled. She had one of those expressions of hers where he could not tell what sort of answer she was looking for. (Not that he was the type of person to change his response to be polite)

He answered truthfully. “Your singing was good.” 

Well, maybe half-truthfully.

“Is that all?” she teased, both of them knowing what she was talking about. Not wanting to have this conversation so soon after their re-acquaintance, Felix deflected.

“I didn’t much care for the dark haired fellow.”

She laughed heartily at that. “I can always trust your opinion, Felix.”

He pushed forward in the conversation, not wanting to overthink anything she was saying to him.

“Are you going to join us afterwords?” he asked carefully, deliberately.

“For what?” she raised an eyebrow. He faltered.

“I’m not actually sure. Sylvain said something about drinking more.”

Of course, that wasn’t exactly true, but Felix was of the mindset that he needed to keep the conversation going, otherwise he would be too distracted by all the smiles and glimpses of exposed skin.

“Hmm…I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” she frowned, looking to the side. He swallowed. “I have another performance tomorrow and staying out too late isn’t very good for my voice.”

She absent-mindedly trailed her fingers up the side of her throat, Felix’s eyes locked on to the sight. It was starting to irritate him how cooly she could have this conversation after so long. Could she not see how it was affecting him?

He looked down, breaking his stare. “Okay.”

“Are you in town for long?” she asked, speaking more softly this time. 

“I’m not sure. I’m going to be living here for a time while I take on missions,” he responded dutifully, hoping his voice didn’t waver and reveal the uncertainties racing through his mind.

She smiled and his thoughts stilled. “Good.”

There was a second of shared silence and Felix took that as a cue to awkwardly lift the purchased flowers she had approved of earlier. While she did not take them from his hands, she brought her hands up towards them and stood on her toes slightly to breathe in their scent.

“I want you to keep these for now, Felix.”

He was confused. “What?”

“I think I see Sylvain making his way over in the distance. I would greatly appreciate if you kept our meeting a secret.”

Upon seeing his glower, she continued with a wink. “I’d really like to see you again, just not with him around.”

Felix stared silently, trying to find a compromise between his daydreams and understanding her actual intent.

“What am I supposed to do with these, then?”

“You can give me flowers at the next performance,” she offered, covering his hand with her own for an oh-too-brief second before gracefully slipping back into the crowd.

As she predicted, Sylvain sauntered up moments later. “Dorothea still not out, eh? Maybe she went home early.”

Felix couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t give him away, so he stayed silent.

“Thanks for buying those,” Sylvain said, gesturing to the flowers. “But you can keep them. It’s a shame, I would’ve looked so cool with those in hand, ring in the other~”

“Ring?” Felix sighed, already tired of the bustling lobby now that the earlier conversation had ended.

“Let’s call it a night,” Sylvain offered, already walking to the exit with purpose. “We can meet later this week.”

“Don’t assume I’m saying yes,” Felix rebutted, though his tone was more distracted than usual.

His walk home was short and unfamiliar, but still managed to be enough time to mull over the last few moments of conversation with Dorothea.

_Who the hell sees the same opera more than once?_


End file.
